


Grounder Christmas

by heroicclarke



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Clexa, F/F, Fluff, grounders, trigedakru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 04:25:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5613856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heroicclarke/pseuds/heroicclarke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke is in for a bit of a surprise when she realizes that Christmas to the Grounders isn’t exactly as she remembered from the Ark. She is even more surprised that, as the commander’s partner, she has to take part in one of the rituals of the holiday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grounder Christmas

Clarke rolled around on her cot, dragging the blanket closer around her shoulders. A perpetual chill seemed to have permeated her bones, making it impossible to ever be warm enough. At least on the Ark we had temperature control, she thought bitterly.

After a few moments, savoring the attempted warmth of her deerskin blanket, Clarke sat up and stretched. She threw her legs off the bed and stood up. Blinking to allow her eyes to adjust, Clarke glanced around her tent. Raven and Octavia must have already began their daily routines, so she was alone. A strange piece of paper lay on the crude table beside the bed. She reached down and picked it up, unfolding it.

Clarke Skaikru, you are needed in the Commander's tent as soon as possible.

-Heda

Clarke scoffed. Of course Lexa would still refer to herself as Heda, just to preserve formalities. Clarke shook her head and started getting dressed, throwing on an extra fur cape to keep out the biting wind. 

She strolled nonchalantly out of her tent, but thoughts were swirling around her head. Why does Lexa need me so urgently? What does she need? Is something wrong? Why is in her personal tent and not the meeting tent?

Clarke reached the Commander's tent quickly, partly because of the cold and partly because it seemed that no one was walking around the camp at the moment. She brushed the tent flap aside and walked in. She peered around, meeting eyes with only Lexa. The rest of the room was empty. Normally, when official business was discussed, it would occur with more people in a different tent. This must be more personal...

Lexa stood up, smiling warmly at Clarke. "I was hoping you would arrive soon, I was getting quite anxious. We have matters to discuss," she spoke in strange tone, unlike the one she used to address her warriors. This was more... Open. Clarke sensed a current of excitement riding under her usually stiff and formal voice.

"Matters involving...?" Clarke responded, confused.

"Christmas."

"Christmas? That is what this is about? You had to be cryptic and formal to talk to me about Christmas?" Clarke sighed and shook her head. This must be some sort of Grounder cultural ritual, not the gift-giving, friend-hugging, smiling, happy day that the Arkers celebrated. 

"You know of it?" Lexa seemed surprised, although her face, as usual, hid any notion of it.

"Yes, it is a holiday that many people on the Ark celebrate. Well, celebrated... It is where you give gifts and spend time with friends and family," Clarke told her, but Lexa appeared to be confused. "I suppose that's not your Christmas?"

"No. Our Christmas is more ritualistic." Bingo, Clarke thought. It's a ritual. "We do give gifts, but I'm unsure if it is similar to the gifts you Skypeople give. Christmas has many parts. One is a ceremony that you must partake in. You see, this is when the children enter training to become warriors. They are paired with a mentor to help them on their path. It starts in the winter because, by spring, we will have more warriors to fight in battles with other clans. There is... most times... a truce among the nations in the winter. We do not want to spend our already meager resources on fighting. We wait until spring brings a wave of revival to the world," Lexa seemed to grow more excited with every word.

Clarke bit her tongue, she wanted to say how horrible of a tradition that was, and the reason behind it. However, she knew it was best not to offend their way of life. 

"What does the ceremony have to do with me? I cannot be a mentor, so what is my role?" Clarke was leery of what the commander might tell her.

"There is a customary dance, right after the ceremony. All of the new trainees must take part in it. As do the mentors, the commander, and the commander's partner. Essentially it is a battle scene. The trainees will elegantly battle their mentors, symbolizing the destruction of our enemies. The two of us are the leaders of opposing sides, we dance together strategically. It shows that we are fighting, yet it does not draw attention from the others. Do you understand?" A sparkle gleamed in her eyes. 

"A dance. You want me to dance?" Clarke asked, bewildered. She had secretly hoped it involved merely leading the kids in and out of the ceremony. She hadn't been expecting this. 

"Yes," Lexa responded bluntly, as if Clarke had asked if the sky was blue. Lexa kissed her lightly on the lips. "It will be quite memorable."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was time for the dance. Clarke watched as the final trainee, Grace, was paired with her mentor, Kira. Grace seemed like a strong girl. She had a glimmer of determination in her eyes that Clarke thought resembled Lexa's. After the young girl moved away with her mentor, Clarke's heart leapt in her chest. It was time. She had practiced a million times, and she wasn't worried about messing up in front of the Grounders (most of the viewers would be watching their own children or families), she was worried about messing up in front of Lexa.

She scratched at her traditional battle gear, the clothing that had initially terrified the delinquents when they landed on Earth. It was flexible and comfortable, despite its looks. She caught Lexa's gaze and nodded slightly. Lexa gave a soft grin. 

During one of their numerous practice sessions, Lexa had told her about one of the other Christmas traditions. This one was passed down from one commander to the next, and unknown to the rest of the Grounders. The commander and their partner always had special rituals after the dance. Clarke quite anticipated these rituals. 

As Lexa stood up, Clarke merely did what they had practiced. Clarke walked over to her and stood still on her right side. The trainees lined up behind Lexa, and the mentors behind Clarke. The two, side by side alight with tension, led the lines to the "battlefield."

Before she knew it, the dance had started. Lexa and Clarke whirled around each other, locked in battle. Lexa would jab, and Clarke would spin out of the way. Their movements were like the current of a river: quick, calculated, and flowing. Clarke's heartbeat was in sync with her movements, and she felt freed by the dance. Their bodies would touch every once in awhile. A spark of electricity seemed to linger on her skin after Lexa let go. The dance seemed to have a particular character. It was wild, yet controlled and tactical. 

All too soon it ended, with all of the mentors lying on the ground, the trainees standing over them victoriously. Clarke met Lexa's eyes again. Their dancing slowed, and the two halted, their faces close. Lexa's breath mingled with her own, their ragged breaths visible in the chilly air. 

They broke apart, and Lexa stood in front of the spectators.

"Your children have worked long and hard for this ritual, and it shows their dedication not only to their training, but to the clan. Their training will be difficult, and they will be put through hardships. However, that is the way of the warrior, and we will be victorious," Lexa stood proudly, and the woods around them echoed the final word. It was as if the trees were chanting in favor of the new trainees, cheering them on and predicting their future victories.

With that, Lexa dismissed everyone, congratulating the beaming, yet shivering trainees as they walked by. Soon, the clearing was empty. Not a single sign besides the trampled grass showed that a battle took place. Lexa grabbed Clarke's hand. They shared a kiss and Lexa led Clarke back to the commander's tent, closing the flap tightly behind them.


End file.
